The Christmas Network
by voiceofreason99
Summary: (S1XMas)The Doctor is back for Christmas! . . . But can he really be trusted? Reunited with Sasha, Alec and Claire, the race is on to discover the true purpose of CyberSocial, the next leap in social media - uploading their souls to the internet to be part of the next technological revolution. But is CyberSocial what it says it is? Can it be stopped before the Christmas Day launch?
1. Part 1

_**Finally! The Christmas Special for series 1 of My Doctor Who, and just in time for series 8! (In August):) I got the old favourites back, The Doctor, Sasha, Alec, Claire and a certain favourite monster. As always, please please please review and keep reading! (P.S. If you haven't read the first series 1) Please read, 2) It shouldn't be a problem, most things are explained.) Enjoy! :)**_

* * *

"_Sleigh bells ring, are you listening_

_In the lane, snow is glistening,_

_A beautiful sight,_

_We're happy tonight,_

_Walking in a Winter Wonderland_."

Sasha Parker danced around her kitchen, wrapping tinsel around her body like a showgirl as she pranced. As the microwave beeped, she pulled out her M&S Christmas pudding pot and piled cream on top of it (it was Christmas, she was allowed to let loose). She danced around her Christmas tree, flicking the baubles so that they rang, and flopped down into her sofa, digging into her pudding. There was some game show on TV – something cheesy with flashing lights every time a prize was won.

Once she'd finished her pudding, she picked up her phone and dialled. No-one picked up; just a dull ringing, so she left a message:

"Doctor? Are you there? I have got the right number, right, otherwise I'm going to look like an idiot – like the time I misdialled a stripper at a hen party and ended up in an extremely awkward conversation with a six year old and her Nan? That was difficult . . . Anyway, it's Christmas, Doctor. It's been a while and I just thought . . . Well . . . Perhaps you could take a visit. Just for Christmas. I don't know if we've done something wrong, but we haven't spoken in ages and . . . I just want to see your face. Come back, Doctor. You can be our Christmas present. Come back. We need you!"

* * *

Bathing in the sun under a large umbrella, the Doctor laid back, in shorts and his shirt sleeves rolled up, laid across a hammock. A straw hat rested across his face, and his fingers trailed along the cool glass surface of the cocktail by his side. Her face glowed with the sunscreen he'd piled on his face, blocking out the rays of the three suns in the sky.

"Doctor, I have an incoming message for you," a squid-faced alien announced, arriving beside the Doctor's hammock in a Hawaiian shirt and swimming shorts, carrying a 20's styled phone on a silk cushion.

"I'm on holiday," the Doctor groaned, "no calls. Take a step to the left; you're blocking the rays . . . Or maybe the right."

"The incoming message is being received from the number that you designated as crucial. Doctor, from your instructions, you must listen," the squid-faced alien insisted.

The Doctor looked up, removing the straw hat from his face. There was a lingering sadness in his eyes, something he'd been supressing for a while now. His hand trembled a little as he reached for the phone, pulling it from its stand. He pressed it against his ear and listened to Sasha Parker's voice: "Come back. We need you!"

Slowly, the Doctor placed the phone back, gazing out into the distant suns.

The alien coughed politely. "May I ask what the purpose of this communication was? If I may be so humble."

"No, not at all, it's fine," the Doctor shrugged, something caught in his throat. "I think I need to go now," the Doctor stuttered, climbing out of the hammock.

"Doctor – is something wrong?"

"No. Not at all . . . I think it's just what I need," the Doctor said, breaking into a run as a smile tore across his face. "Merry Christmas!"

* * *

Claire Hodgson, Sasha Parker's best friend, wondered through the streets of London – last minute Christmas shopping. She was dressed as she normally would, but with a Christmas jumper and a ridiculous hat. Wide eyed and happy, she stepped into a fancy chocolate shop, where every think had an unusual twist, with interesting shapes and flavours. After browsing for a while, she came across the perfect gift for Sasha – a box of biscuit themed chocolates.

She stepped to the counter, dancing a little to the festive music. The woman at the counter had short black hair and red lipstick, with three black spots on her cheek. She scanned the box and placed it in a bag.

"Here you go," the shop assistant smiled. "That'll be fourteen pound ninety nine, but it comes at half price if you purchase a CyberSocial voucher."

"Cyber what?" Claire asked in confusion.

"You don't know what CyberSocial is?" the assistant gasped, nearly laughing. "Everyone knows about CyberSocial; even my Nan!"

"Yes, but what is it?" Claire persisted.

"It's the latest social media trend. It's launching on Christmas morning, but already over one billion accounts have been guaranteed within the last two weeks. CyberSocial is big! Seriously, Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat – who gives one now! CyberSocial is revolutionising social media, and you can't afford to miss out," the shop assistant explained. "CyberSocial has given these vouchers to every high-street chain absolutely free – in fact, we gain money from it! You won't find a person in Britain without CyberSocial by the time it's launched."

"And what will the voucher get me?" Claire asked.

"A CyberSocial account – all privileges included. But then again, every account has all privileges included."

"That sounds alright," Claire smiled. "How much does it cost?"

"Fifty pence."

"Fifty pence!" Claire cried in shock. "Aren't these things usually free?"

"Yeah, but most social media gets money from advertising and stocks. Not CyberSocial. No adverts, ever! Trust me, fifty pence is gonna look like buying the whole of Rome, statues and all, for a tenner."

"Alright then," Claire shrugged, handing over the money and taking both the chocolates and the voucher. "Merry Christmas."

* * *

The doorbell rang.

"One minute!" Sasha called, weaving past the wrapping on the floor to get to the front door. "Just a sec!" Eventually, she reached the door and pulled it open. She smiled. "Doctor!" she cried, jumped into his arms.

The Doctor tensed, a little annoyed. "I came back. Not get off before something snaps."

"You've not changed!" Sasha laughed.

The Doctor placed her down. "Merry Christmas!" he grinned.

"You too! Wait there a minute," she insisted, running off into her flat, then reappearing with mistletoe in his hand, holding it up over the Doctor's head. "Tradition I suppose," she giggled, moving her cheek close to the Doctor.

"So's Morris dancing, and I can't stand that either," the Doctor frowning, moving past Sasha into her flat.

"Fine enough then," Sasha shrugged, giving up on the mistletoe and closing the door behind her to join the Doctor in the lounge. She watched as he inspected the wrapping covered floor, a little disapproving. "Sorry about the mess. I was meant to send them yesterday, but remembered that presents usually come wrapped. I'm not the best but I'm giving it a go."

"Alright then," the Doctor smiled, sitting down on the sofa. "Ah! Where's good old Alec? How's he doing?"

"Well . . . Erm . . ." Sasha stuttered, trying to cover her frown with a feeble smile. "He's not particularly in the best of moods."

"Why? What happened?" the Doctor asked, concerned.

"You'd probably know better than me; you were there."

"Was I?"

"Yes. At the hospital," Sasha reminded him. The Doctor immediately remembered that night – they'd escaped the Dalek trap, but at the cost of Sasha being hospitalised in a critical condition. "Whilst I was in surgery, Shannon left Alec. He said that Francesca had taken Shannon to live elsewhere, and that Alec wouldn't be allowed to see her again."

The Doctor remembered. Alec, Sasha's brother and companion to the Doctor, had been captured by a psychotic man (who, as it happened, was a Dalek puppet), where he met Shannon Taylor. She had been the love of his life. "Oh," the Doctor frowned, biting his lip. "How long has it been?"

"Four months. I'm back on the mend, as you can probably see. But I think Alec is the most scared. I'm not surprised. He's had one hell of a year."

"Can I see him?" the Doctor asked.

"Not now. He's sleeping," Sasha said. "In fact, how about we go present shopping. A bit of a catch up, then you can meet him in the morning. You could spend the Christmas weekend with us."

"How long until Christmas?"

"Just under two days. It's the 23rd tonight," Sasha informed him.

"I don't carry money."

"It's not about the present," Sasha smiled. "I'll pay. I just wanted you here for Christmas."

"Ok," the Doctor nodded. "Let's go."

* * *

Alec sat on his bed. He wasn't sleeping. He'd heard the door close, but nothing else over the sounds from his iPod. White light from the stars glistened out of his window, so he watched them. The sky was a dark blue – beautiful. Shannon's face emerged in the stars, burning away at the quivering of his heart.

He stepped to the window, pressing his hand against the cold surface. A dog barked on the street below, a harsh addition to the carolling from the church on the horizon. And on the ground a blue light . . . A Tardis blue light.

"Doctor?" Alec gasped. Immediately, he stormed into the lounge, but realised that his sister had gone. Still in pyjamas he ran outside into the corridor of the block of flats and called out for the Doctor, but his friend had gone.

* * *

_**I hope you enjoyed that! Please review, it really means a lot and kepp reading :) Thanks!**_


	2. Part 2

_**I hope you like this. Please review!**_

* * *

Alec picked up the landline and dialled. Her placed the receiver to his ear and spoke. "Claire? Claire can you hear me?"

Claire, a little chaotically, flopped down into one of the dusty seats of the train on the London Underground. She laid her shopping bags on the floor, nearly breaking another woman's toe, and replied in exhaustion: "Yeah? Who is this?"

"It's Alec. I need to talk to you," Alec begged.

"Face-to-face?" Claire asked in confusion.

"Yes. I wouldn't ask unless it was important."

"What about?"

"Face-to-face," Alec insisted.

"Not even a clue?"

"Erm . . ." Alec groaned, not sure of how to reply. "The Doctor's back."

Claire jumped out of her seat in excitement and shock. "WHAT? _The _Doctor? Oh my God! I'll get off as soon as I can and come find you. Stay at Sasha's apartment." Claire placed her phone back in her pocket, twitching a little with shock.

Across the carriage, a man had been watching her. He was in a suit and carried a briefcase, like most others on that carriage – yet a metal disc at the back of his neck flashed. Robotically, he turned his head to face Claire directly, and on the screens inside his eyes, words flashed: 'Emergency code. The Doctor.' Then he muttered to himself, "Access communications with Miss Rubens. Emergency codes activated. Full trace and analysis of Claire Maria Hodgson." When the man shut his mouth, the others on the train were oblivious to the tiny, silver Cybermite that scuttled from under his collar.

* * *

Sasha wrapped her arm around the Doctor's as they wandered through the high street, surrounded by fairy lights and flashing advertisements that blurred the entire city into a ball of neon festivities. There was no snow – the modern usual- but the two of them wore scarves, and Sasha, a ridiculous novelty turkey hat.

"So," Sasha shrugged, "how's the travelling?"

"Not bad," the Doctor nodded.

"You've got a tan line," Sasha grinned.

"I was at a beach, and there were two suns."

"That sounds better than not bad."

"I needed to relax."

"How so?"

That question made the Doctor stop in his tracks. "I thought you of all people would know. The trap. The Dalek trap that nearly killed us all."

"So what?" Sasha shrugged.

"You especially nearly died."

"And that's what happens when we travel with you. You can't blame yourself for something you weren't responsible for," Sasha insisted, squeezing the Doctor's arm. "You can't run away from it to some far away beach, and expect that to get rid of the memories."

"I wasn't trying to do that."

"Then it certainly seems that way. How long?"

"How long what?" the Doctor asked.

"How long were you there?" Sasha clarified. "How long have you been travelling since the Daleks?"

"I dunno," the Doctor shrugged.

"Then estimate."

"Nearly a year," the Doctor snapped.

"A year?" Sasha gasped. "A whole year at a beach with two suns by yourself? You'd better have used sunscreen. You could've got skin cancer. Can Time Lord's get skin cancer?"

"No!" the Doctor cried.

"Not a year at the beach, or Time Lord's don't get skin cancer?"

"I wasn't there for a year."

"But can you get cancer?"

"Why does it matter?"

"Because I need to know how much Factor 50 I need to pack for our next adventures," Sasha snapped, suddenly bursting into a smile. "Did you really think I wanted you back just for Christmas?"

"No. But it's all you're getting," the Doctor frowned.

"What?" Sasha cried, catching up with the Doctor as he walked away. "You can't do that! You can't walk out at Christmas!"

"You can have Christmas, but then I'm off."

"Why? Did we do something wrong?"

"No. You never do."

"Then why are you kicking us out?"

"Because you've seen what travelling with me can do," the Doctor said, grabbing Sasha by the arms as he suddenly became very serious. "I've always said that things don't last long with me, and that I can't be trusted; since the Daleks you have absolute truth that people get hurt around me. You nearly died on that ship, for God's sake!"

"We travel with you because we like the danger!" Sasha insisted. "You can't keep turning us away. If you've learnt anything, it's that you need us too."

"No! Don't do this!"

"Why not?" Sasha said, throwing her arms up. "Do you like travelling with us?"

"Yes. Of course I do."

"Then give us a chance," Sasha suggested. "Spend this Christmas with us, then make your choice. I won't be mad with you. I won't even argue. If you want, I'll let you go. All I ask if that you spend Christmas with us."

"I won't change my mind," the Doctor insisted.

"Nevertheless, there's no harm in trying."

Sasha raised her eyebrows, giving the Doctor a 'please-just-this-once' expression as he contemplated the offer. Eventually, he shrugged. "Ok. Sure. This _one _Christmas only!"

"Yes!" Sasha laughed, jumping up as she punched the air. "Thank you!" she laughed, pulling the Doctor in for a large hug.

The Doctor fidgeted, trying to escape from Sasha as she locked his arms. "It's not a promise."

"But I'll convince you. I _will_ convince you!" Sasha insisted, squeezing him half to death.

"Ok . . ." the Doctor wheezed.

* * *

There were gunshots. Police Constable Jameson ducked as a bullet swerved over his head, ricocheting off a metal grill as it sparked. Jameson hid behind a mannequin, shielding his head. Gasping and sweating, he pulled his radio from his pocket and spoke. "Emergency! Back-up needed. Gunman in Whiteleys shopping centre. Shots fired. Gunman is contained on the west-facing, ground floor corridor." He ducked again as a shop was fired.

Across the corridor, another police officer hid in another shop. He gestured to Jameson, '_make a move_' and readied his gun. Jameson nodded in agreement.

"GO, GO, GO!" Jameson cried, stepping out from behind the mannequin.

The two officers shot at the gunman, mostly missing as the bullets hit shop windows, shattering glass to the floor. Eventually, the gunman fell to the floor as a bullet struck.

"Arms down!" Jameson cried, lowering his gun. The other officer stepped to check the gunman's pulse. "Good work."

* * *

The Doctor and Sasha continued through the streets, stepping along to the chiming of Christmas carols.

"That's be nice for Alec," Sasha said, pointing out an app controlled helicopter in the window of a gadget shop. "He's still into all that spy stuff."

"A bit costly," the Doctor frowned.

"I'm paying remember." Out-of-the-blue, the Doctor suddenly hurried into the shop, leaving Sasha looking confused outside. "Doctor?" she called, following him inside. The shop was warmer than outside, with red walls, and every surface covered with some sort of electronic gadget. "Doctor, what is it?"

The Doctor stepped to one of the displays, holding up the boxes of every different toy before throwing them to the floor, as though he were searching for something.

"Sir! Please stop that!" a shop assistant barked, grabbing the Doctor by the arm.

The Doctor hold up one of the boxes to the shop assistant's face, his finger pointing directly to a small logo on the packaging. "CyberTech!" he snapped. "What is CyberTech?"

"I dunno," the assistant shrugged, "just a brand. Now I'm going to have to ask you to put it down."

"Everything in this shop is made by CyberTech – why?" the Doctor persisted.

"I'm gonna call the police if you don't leave this moment!" the shop assistant snapped.

"Come on, Doctor," Sasha pleaded, pulling on the Doctor's arm.

The Doctor shrugged her off, staring deep into the shop assistant's eyes. "Are they controlling you?"

"Doctor!" Sasha snapped, grabbing the Doctor and pulling him out of the shop. "What was that about?"

"CyberTech," the Doctor frowned. "I bet you it's a Cybermen owned company."

"Cybermen?" Sasha asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Another one of my enemies. Worse than most of the monsters we've met."

"Why would they own CyberTech?"

"I dunno. They must have some sort of plan."

"Do you think they have something to do with CyberSocial?" Sasha asked.

"What?" the Doctor frowned.

"CyberSocial. The biggest growing social networking project ever," Sasha explained. "It's being launched on Christmas morning, and guess what – CyberSocial is a branch of CyberTech."

The Doctor gasped. "Show me."

"Look up there," Sasha said, spinning the Doctor around and pointing to a large screen in the street. It was a news broadcast, showing a ginger haired woman in a red suit standing in front of the BT Tower. "That's Miss Rubens. She started the project and is in charge of the launch."

Miss Rubens spoke on the screen: "CyberSocial won't just revolutionise social messaging; it'll revolutionise the world! We're so used to faking reality on the internet, creating low self-esteem and distorting what the real world is. No longer! CyberTech will become the real world. No more sitting at a keyboard and ignoring the world around you. CyberSocial won't just join you to the internet; it'll make you the internet!"

"What?" the Doctor gasped.

"Your entire consciousness is uploaded to the CyberSocial network, where everyone can share and be themselves," Miss Rubens continued. "You can jump being the real world and virtual world at any desired point, and won't be able to tell the difference. Faster messaging, being true to yourself – CyberSocial isn't just a step in the virtual world, it is the best thing that has, or ever will happen. So make sure you've set up an account by launch on Christmas morning – you don't want to miss out!"

Miss Rubens disappeared from the screen as the news continued.

"And that's CyberSocial," Sasha summarised. "Your consciousness gets uploaded to the internet. It's the perfect link between the real and virtual world."

"But that puts CyberTech in control of your souls!" the Doctor gasped. "Humanity will lose control of the one thing it should always possess. If they wanted, CyberTech could delete your mind at any point if they wanted. Has no-one spoken out about it?"

"Of course," Sasha replied. "There are centres all over the world where people get these implants to upload themselves. There have been five attacks at these centres over the last two weeks alone. There are campaigns on Facebook, public speeches . . . But nothing will change. Any sort of uprising gets shut down by the Government and everyone just buys in to CyberTech."

"How are the Government involved?" the Doctor asked.

"They sponsor CyberTech."

"Since when did the Government sponsor independent businesses?"

"Because CyberTech is – and I know this will make you angry – but it's perfect," Sasha cried. "Virtually all their profits go to charity, they have no environmental impact, they haven't been involved in any scandals and their employees are the best treated in the country. After the Government gave CyberTech official support, CyberTech gave the Government free devices."

"Have you got an account?"

"No! I've not been brainwashed, unlike the rest of the world."

"We've got to stop them. As soon as CyberSocial launches, the Cybermen will have complete control over anyone who has an account," the Doctor frowned.

"But how?" Sasha asked. "You can't bring down CyberTech. People have tried before and never succeeded."

"And what happens to those people?"

"I don't know. They just . . . Disappear."

"Exactly – that's what the Cybermen do!" the Doctor snapped. "They have to be stopped."

"And I'll ask again: how?"

The Doctor's eyes blazed. "Where are the CyberTech headquarters?"

* * *

_**CyberTech? What's going on?! Keep reading to find out! Please review :)**_


	3. Part 3

_**I hope you're liking this story! Please review, and maybe read another one of my stories? Enjoy!**_

* * *

Miss Rubens sat at her desk, looking through files and scrolling through her laptop – it was a busy day preparing for the launch of CyberSocial. Light spilled in through the large windows, a glistening grey from seventy one floors up the Shard. Everything in the room was spotless and metal and in the perfect position. Even her pencils were lined up in order.

Someone knocked at the door.

Quickly and efficiently, Miss Rubens closed her laptop and placed it in her desk drawer with several other files. "Come in!" she called, combing her ginger hair out of her eyes.

The door opened, and in stepped a tall, black haired man in a suit. He had a look as though he was always a bit confused. "Erm . . . I have the latest reports from the ethics department," he said, holding out a large folder, stepping towards Miss Rubens.

"Mr Blakemore, isn't it?" Miss Rubens recalled with a smile, taking the folder and placing it on her desk. "I've been hearing stories from Human Resources – you're concerns for the CyberSocial project."

Mr Blakemore stuttered a little, "Well, there are some aspects of the project that concern me."

With her eyes still fixed onto Mr Blakemore, Miss Rubens sank back into her chair, crossing her legs. "Please elaborate."

Mr Blakemore swallowed in fear. "It all started when I saw the looked into the figures. Every year, we spend one million pounds on salaries, but if the current number of employees is correct, we only pay them with three thousand pounds a year. I doesn't add up! It's probably just a major clerical error, or we're paying people way below the minimum wage."

"A clerical error, I'm sure," Miss Rubens replied dismissively.

"But there's more," Mr Blakemore interrupted. "There's a whole set of programs on CyberSocial that were never created. I've checked with IT, and not one person claims to have written or authorised it. No-one can understand it – even though we have the best in Britain working on this project – or find a way of getting rid of it. We tried wiping it from the system but it just popped back up again the next day. Then, a day or two later, I asked the IT guys again, and it was like they'd forgotten the entire thing! I doesn't make sense."

Miss Rubens shook her head. "I'm not an expert on the IT side. You should speak to someone else."

"And I have," Mr Blakemore insisted. "I've asked ever Head of Department but nothing's been done. And when I speak to the staff, they just forget the next day. The only thing I'm left to believe is that this project has been hijacked. All the staff must be involved . . . And then I realised that the first time there was any record of you was five years ago. You only began to exist when the project was created." Suddenly, Mr Blakemore pulled a gun from his back pocket and aimed it at Miss Rubens. "Who are you and what have you done with the project?"

Miss Rubens chuckled. "You've worked on this project since the start – I never expected things to come with this."

"Exactly. I've put my heart into five years of this, and another ten years working with CyberTech; I want to know whether I've been working for an illegal, immoral purpose," Mr Blakemore snapped.

A sinister grin split across Miss Rubens' face. She stepped out of her chair, so that she was close enough to reach for Mr Blakemore's gun. "Go ahead. Fire," she teased. "I won't stop us. The Cybermites control this corporation and will continue to do so."

"Cybermites? Who are they?" Mr Blakemore asked, his hands shaking.

"We _are _CyberTech. We made the company. We made CyberSocial. And we will take the world, no matter who gets in our way."

Mr Blakemore fired – no bullets shot. Mr Blakemore watched in confusion as a silver insect crawled from the barrel of his gun. It scuttled up his arm and up to his face. Within moments, an army of Cybermites were crawling up Mr Blakemore's body, scuttling inside him as he was upgraded.

"Urgh," Miss Rubens groaned, stretching out her back and shoulders as she watched Mr Blakemore's transformation. "Finally. I don't have to keep hiding now. Visual update in progress." She moved her hand to the bottom of her neck, where she pressed a small metal circle that bonded with her skin. Her whole body changed, as though her very skin was made of out pixels as she changed from a human to a metal Cyberwoman.

* * *

Alec threw open the door to the apartment, looking onto the wide-eyed and wide-mouthed gasp of Claire as she stood, covered in winter clothing, in the coldness of the corridor, her elbows strained by the shopping bags she'd decided to hang from the part of her arm not designed for lifting.

"Where is he?" Claire demanded, stumbling into the flat pushing past Alec as she searched the flat.

"He's gone," Alec replied, closing the front door and joining Claire in the living room. "He left with Sasha about an hour ago."

"And they left you alone?" Claire asked in concerned, placing her bags to the side of the sofa.

"Yeah," Alec shrugged.

"It's half ten," Claire gasped, removing her coat as she flopped down on the sofa.

"And?" Alec shrugged again, sitting at the opposite end of the sofa.

"It's late! And your sister abandoned you for a mysterious man that left her still smoking in a hospital bed. That doesn't ring _I'm-trustful-and-responsible_," Claire explained.

Alec raised an eyebrow, "I think 'abandoned'is a bit of an over-reaction."

"He's a bit influence, that Doctor bloke. All that deception and time travel."

"I'm not denying that."

"Exactly!"

"But she trusts him," Alec counter-argued.

"But do you?" Claire asked.

Alec was caught off-guard. His answer was replaced with an expression of half-confusion and half-sorrow. The truth was that even he didn't know anymore. After months, the Doctor had suddenly arrived and hadn't even said hello.

"Oh . . . Sorry," Claire muttered.

Alec drew in a deep breath. "No, it's fine. I must be _man_struating," he joked, his smile quivering.

"You're crying," Claire stuttered, pointing to Alec's cheek.

"Am I?" Alec croaked, pulling his hand to his cheek where a small salty drop trickled. He wiped it away, "Oh . . . Right. Thanks."

Slowly, Claire slid along the sofa beside Alec. She looked in his brown eyes with hers, equally reddened. With one hand, she rubbed his shoulder. He swallowed, resisting the urge to spill his tears over her and barely succeeding.

"You know you can always talk to me?" Sasha reassured him. "Anything at all. Just text or give me a call. I understand you can't tell Sasha everything, but you should at least try to tell someone. I'm here. Auntie Claire."

Alec giggled to himself a little, masking whatever it was that threatened to transform him into a blubbering infant. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. Auntie Claire to the rescue," she smiled, pulling Alec in for a hug.

"This never happened," Alec joked, hugging her back. "Is my present in one of those bags?" Alec asked, moving out of the hug to gesture to Claire's bags.

"Yep," Claire replied. "A secret, of course. You'll have to wait until Christmas morning."

"What did you get for Sasha?"

"Shush. Secret," Claire teased. "Something I think she'll need and want at the same time. I hope she'll like it."

Something caught Alec's eye. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Claire asked in confusion.

Alec was fixated with something under the Christmas tree, but Claire couldn't work out what it was – just a bunch of presents. "Just watch," Alec muttered, on the edge of the sofa as he watched closely.

There! Something twitched under the pile of presents. "What was that?" Claire gasped. Then a light flickered on, into one of the presents – a bright red light. It continued to twitch under the tree.

"Did you buy that?" Alec asked.

"No," Claire denied, shaking her head. "All my presents are in these bags. It must be one of yours."

Alec stared at Claire for a moment, before realising that she was equally as in the dark as he was. Very slowly, he crouched to the floor and crawled towards the glowing present. He reached out a trembling had to it. The present was roughly the size of a piggy bank, and wrapped in a very unusual shape. He touched it. It still trembled but was otherwise acting the same. Then, carefully he unwrapped in to reveal a small metal dinosaur.

Alec sighed, smiling a little. "It's nothing. Just a toy."

"Thank God," Claire cried, resting her head in her palms.

"I know, right. It had me worried then," Alec laughed, watching the dinosaur as it stepped towards him, its small arms stretched out. "Nothing to worry about at all."

The dinosaur cocked its head to a side, glaring at Alec as its eyes burst into red lights, every split in its metal casing glowing with an eerie blue light. It opened its mouth, revealing a small cylindrical device that protruded towards Alec. It groaned, "Upgrade available. Prepare for imminent upgrade!"

Alec pulled his eyes shut as a shudder of pain rocketed through his neck. He placed his hand towards the pain, where he pulled a small metal dart from his neck. In confusion, he looked to the dinosaur. It stepped towards him. Damn it!

"Move!" Claire screamed, pulling Alec out of the way of the dinosaur, movements before it fired a shaft of flames from its mouth, igniting the sofa immediately.

"What the hell?" Alec cried as Claire pulled him away. His head was throbbing. His neck swollen and black dots swirling through his vision. Whatever the dinosaur had injected him with, it wasn't friendly. "I think I've been poisoned," he croaked.

"Hold in there," Claire replied, ducking as the dinosaur shot bullets towards her head, blowing holes in the wall. She pulled Alec behind the flaming sofa.

"What do we do?" Alec asked.

"We need to get rid of it!"

"How?"

"I don't know. I thought this was your thing."

"I've been poisoned!"

"And you're nagging way more than a usual patient. Shut up and do something!"

"Ok!" Alec moaned. He jumped up from behind the sofa. "Get me! I'm here!" he cried.

"What are you doing?" Claire asked.

"Making a distraction. Hit it or something!"

The dinosaur turned to Alec, its red eyes blazing. "Upgrade initiating!"

Before the dinosaur could fire, Sasha emerged beside it, wielding a hockey stick. She screamed her head off as she whacked it across the room. It hit the wall, but clung to it. Malevolently, it spun its head backwards, facing the two of them. It breathed fire at Claire, setting fire to the Christmas tree.

Alec smacked the dinosaur repetitively with a frying pan until it fell to the floor, as if her were swatting a fly. "I think I did it."

"Alright then," Claire grinned, still flustered.

Suddenly, the dinosaur leapt off the floor, clinging to Alec's face as it snarled and attempted to bit his face with its large, shining teeth. "AAAAARRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!" Alec screamed, the dinosaur centimetres from his face. "HELP!"

"What do I do?" Claire panicked.

"Anything!" Alec cried.

"Ok!" Claire nodded, running at him with the hockey stick raised.

"DON'T HIT ME!" Alec complained.

"Then what can I do?"

"Anything. But don't smack he in the face with a flipping giant hockey stick you crazy woman!" Alec screamed as the dinosaur snapped at his face.

"Ok, ok, ok," Claire thought, jumping up and down on the spot in panic. She picked up the phone and threw it at the dinosaur, missing and hitting the wall, then attempting with the phone stand but it was pulled back by the cable and landed on her foot. "OW! I think I've bruised my foot!"

"I'M DYING HERE!" Alec called, pulling his head away as the dinosaur make a jump at his nose. He was getting weak. The poison was making him drowsy as he felt his knees tremble. His vision blurred and the screams just became a thick blanket of meaningless noise. "Help me!"

"Urgh!" Claire groaned; she didn't have a clue what to do. She picked up the hockey stick again ad brandished it at Alec. "Hold still!"

"What? Don't you dare!" Alec complained.

"Don't move!" she cried, before swiping the hockey stick at Alec. She hit the dinosaur off him, clipping his nose in the process, as it was sent flying into the kitchen.

Alec crouched to the floor, gasping. "I think you've broken my nose."

"Never mind that, come on!" she cried pulling him into the kitchen. The dinosaur was crawling back to its feet, recovering. Claire picked it up. "Turn on the blender!"

Alec turned it on and opened the lid. "Quick! Get it in!"

Claire struggled as it fought back, but eventually she was able to push it into the blender and clamp on the lid. "NOW!"

Alec flicked the switch, and there was a wailing electronic scream as the dinosaur was torn to shreds, its eyes turning blank.

Claire and Alec slid to the floor, gasping and heaving. "I think we did quite well," Claire shrugged.

Alec turned to her, his eyes blazing. "You are kidding, right? You were shocking! And your Christmas tree's still on fire."

"Oh, Jesus!" Claire cried, running for a fire extinguisher as Alec fell asleep.

* * *

_**Yeah, Alec and Claire aren't the best at tackling monsters... I hope you liked that. Please review :)**_


	4. Part 4

_**I hope you're enjoying this! Please review :)**_

* * *

"Ok, so that's identity sorted," Sasha confirmed. "So, let's run through once again: who are you?"

The Doctor groaned, his eyebrows furrowing together in annoyance. "This is pointless."

"No it's not," Sasha disagreed. "Have you never seen an undercover agent movie? Always have a fake name when breaking into the villain's secret hideout."

"It's a great big tower in the middle of London. Secret isn't quite the right word, I feel," the Doctor disagreed.

Sasha rolled her eyes. "Just tell me your name."

The Doctor grunted, giving in to Sasha. "Hello! I'm John Smith, representative of the Beverly Newman Entrepreneur Awards. I am here to award Miss Rubens with the Beverly Newman Outstanding Businesswoman Award. This will be a surprise to her, so please don't call her, and just let us in anyway."

"Well done," Sasha congratulated him. "Perhaps work on your tonality? Make sure you're very clear . . . And lose the Scottish accent. Sound a bit more English."

"No chance."

"Yes chance," Sasha insisted.

"I said no," the Doctor snapped. "Now you try."

Sasha shrugged. "I'll be fine on the night."

"This is the night!"

"Oh. Right," Sasha realised. "Then we'll need an explanation of why we're so late."

"I have a plan."

"And what's that?"

"We can just jump to tomorrow morning."

* * *

Claire stirred her cup of tea, slowly stepping towards the singed remains of the sofa. The fabric crunched a little as she eased herself down beside Alec's limp, sleeping body. She placed her tea on the floor before readjusting the wet flannel she'd laid on his head and placing medicine in his mouth, slowly healing him from the dinosaur's poison dart.

Softly, Alec coughed, spluttering and heaving.

"Woah, woah," Claire soothed. "Calm down. You're alright."

"How long was I asleep?" Alec coughed.

"Through the night," Claire replied.

"Oh, Jesus," Alex groaned. "My legs have gone dead."

"Feeling better than?"

"Yeah. Can you smell smoke?"

"Yeah, the flat's a bit singed."

"My sister's gonna kill you."

"Possibly yes. I'm just glad you got through it alright."

"Where's the robot?"

"Still in the blender."

"Then let's take a look," Alec said, groaning as he levered himself out of the sofa.

"Ok . . . Why?" Claire asked, puzzled.

"And company logos. Clues. After time with the Doctor you get good at learning this stuff. He's better than MI5. That's what they should call him: the Detective."

* * *

Sasha stepped into the Tardis. She stopped. A nauseating wave of déjà vu and sicking realisation of the surreal bigger-on-the-inside concept trapped her where she stood, her mouth limply open. There was something about the deep blue and orange lights that burrowed further into her eyes than usual, and the whirring mechanisms that echoed through her head.

"Come on. Use some pace, Sasha," the Doctor ushered, pushing past her to get to the console, flicking switches as he spun around it. "No time like the near future."

"Yeah. Sorry," Sasha muttered. She inhaled deeply, and exhaled deeply. "Ok. Tomorrow morning. London. The CyberTech Tower. I'm ready."

"Good. A bit quicker next time please," the Doctor rambled, swiping a lever, sending the Tardis on a sharp jolt sideways. "There's some clothes down the corridor. Left, walk, left, right, forwards, down, second on the right."

"Christmas Eve," Sasha grinned.

"Yes. Keep up."

"I am. It's just getting used to this again. Time and space. I love it," Sasha grinned. The Doctor raised an eyebrow to her. "Left, walk, left, right, forwards, down, third on the right?"

"Second on the right," the Doctor corrected her.

Sasha laughed. "Sure. I won't be a minute."

* * *

The Doctor and Sasha gazed up at the staggering height of the CyberTech Tower. Suited and styled for business, the Doctor and Sasha prepared themselves, ready for corporate battle. A cold breath whispered through the air, frosted with a light drizzle out snowflakes.

"Ready?" the Doctor asked.

"Ready," Sasha confirmed. "In fact, leave this to me. I've got a plan."

"Oh, really?" the Doctor grinned, raising an eyebrow.

Sasha pulled a small glass bottle of perfume from her pocket, lightly spraying her chest and untying her hair. "Just a little flirting to get us in."

The Doctor chuckled. "Let's get started."

The two of them pushed open the large glass doors to the reception, stepping into the ground floor of the Tower. The entire room was glittering. Decorate from ceiling to floor with polished slate tiles and glass ornaments, with smooth silver handrails and large screens, flashing with advertisements and logos. The Doctor led Sasha towards the reception desk – a long chain of booths across the side of the room, each seating a uniformed, half-sleeping CyberTech employee.

The Doctor led Sasha to the end booth, where a baggy-eyed, messily-shaven man slouched back in his chair, spinning a pen through his fingers in boredom. The perfect mark.

"Hello!" Sasha gleamed, stepping towards the reception, pushing out her hips as she walked. Hey, can you help me?" she pleaded, puckering her lips and fluttering her eyelashes.

When the receptionist saw her, his yes bulged. He nearly toppled as he slipped up onto his seat, sucking in his stomach and fastening his tie. "Yes, of course, Miss. Anything you like," he flirted.

"I like the sound of that," Sasha smiled, resting her head in her palms at the reception desk, face-to-face with the employee, battering her eyes at him. "I'm here to see Miss Rubens. You couldn't tell me and my colleague where to find her?"

"Oh, erm, I'm going to have to know why you're here. Do you have an appointment?" he asked.

"I'm here from the Beverly Newman Entrepreneur Awards to award Miss Rubens with the Beverly Newman Outstanding Businesswoman Awards. It's a very high achievement," Sasha insisted.

"Ok. The Beverly Newman Awards you say . . ." the receptionist thought, beginning ton type at his computer.

"I would really appreciate it if you would tell us quickly!" Sasha panicked. "We are on a very tight deadline."

"Nevertheless, I'm going to have to check. Miss Rubens is very strict as to who's allowed to see her," he insisted.

Sasha turning back to the Doctor, her face clearly showing her panic. "Oh, are you thirsty. I sure am. If only a handsome man would buy me a drink," Sasha flaunted, waving her hair in front of the receptionist. He stopped typing immediately, his face dumbstruck was surprise.

"Oh . . . Are you talking to me?" the receptionist smiled.

"Well, what with your seventy four inch . . . And . . . Hairy chin and . . . Dorito scent, who else would I be talking to?" Sasha flustered, doing her best.

"Oh . . . That certainly would be a great Christmas present," the receptionist smiled. "Well, I'll just give Miss Rubens a call to say that you're here, Miss . . .?"

"Miss Parker, and that won't be necessary. I'd like to keep the element of surprise, Mr . . .?"

"Mr Jacobs. But you can call me Matt. Or, Sexy," Mr Jacobs flirted, winking at Sasha.

Immediately, gall caught in Sasha's throat. "I think I'll stick with Matt," she grinned, hiding a protruding grimace.

"Miss Rubens is on the seventy first floor. Turn to your right and go down the corridor," Mr Jacobs instructed. "But _us_; the Rose and Crown, seven o'clock. If the night's still young, maybe we could go to that new hotel . . ."

"Thank you!" Sasha cried, interrupting Mr Jacobs to avoid the eventually disgust as she hurried to the Doctor and out of Mr Jacob's earshot. "That was horrible!" she whispered.

"Good work. You should do that as you job," the Doctor joked.

"I physically feel sick!" Sasha groaned. "You are never getting me to do that again!"

"You volunteered. I had nothing to do with this," the Doctor pointed out.

Sasha frowned at the Doctor. "Stop being so clever! Is he still looking at me?"

The Doctor focused his gaze just past Sasha, where Mr Jacobs sat at his chair, chewy his pen seductively as his eyes flowed over Sasha. "Yes," the Doctor replied, supressing taunting laugh.

Sasha groaned, slapping the Doctor in the chest. "Floor seventy one. Come on. Stay too long and I'll end up married."

* * *

The door to the elevator pinged, rolled open as the Doctor and Sasha stepped out onto the corridor. On the left, the corridor was long, splintered off to other offices; on the right, the corridor was short, ending at a single metal, alarmed door. Miss Rubens' office.

"Just the other side of that door," Sasha stuttered.

"Come on then," the Doctor instructed, taking Sasha by the arm and leading her down the corridor.

"What do we do?" Sasha asked. "What do we do when we go in? What do we ask?"

"We start subtle, then find out whether she's planning an evil scheme," the Doctor replied.

"What if she calls security?"

"Victory in defeat, Sasha."

"But what if we get arrested, or worse?"

"Then we'll make a plan from there."

"Sure . . . Ok . . . I could get used to life in a cell."

The Doctor and Sasha reached the door. Sasha tried the handle, but it immediately transpired that it was locked, supposedly to be unlocked by the small screen at the side.

"What do we do?" Sasha wondered, reaching out to touch it.

"Stop!" the Doctor commanded, grabbing her hand. "Get the wrong passkey and you could set off an alarm."

"How do you even type a passkey?" Sasha wondered, watching the screen as a trail of letters and numbers and symbols scrolled past.

"That is the question exactly. Whatever you do, you don't touch it. You'd need an electric key. Something along the lines of an oyster card but much more complicated."

"What are those symbols? Some sort of language?"

"Yes. But not your usual language."

"French?"

"Much, much worse," the Doctor frowned.

"Now that's scary," Sasha gasped.

The Doctor pulled the sonic out from his pocket, aimed it at the small screen and opened the door. Slowly, a little scared, Sasha pushed the door open, stepping into the office.

The room was lit was a grey glow from the city outside. Each side was lined with bookcases, filled with files and wallets and every other form of documentation. Miss Rubens off sat in front of the large window, looking into the room. Not a single object was out of place – it was all in-line and symmetrical.

"Not even a stray mug of tea," Sasha pointed out, cautiously stepping further into the office.

"This isn't just tidy, this is meticulous," the Doctor frowned, hurrying up to the desk. "It's as if the spacing between the objects has been measured. And look! Not even a hair on the seat. No oily fingerprints on the keyboard . . ."

"And these files are empty," Sasha added, picking a file from the bookcase and flicking through it, revealing blank pages and empty plastic wallets.

"It's as if she was ever here, but she has! There are high heel marks leading to the door and a chair indent on the floor," the Doctor inspected.

"It's as if Miss Rubens was here, but didn't leave a single mark," Sasha muttered. "This is creepy. Ergh!" she cried, shivering. "Little being in a haunted house."

"The woman who never was . . ." the Doctor thought to himself.

"And who might that be?" a voice asked.

The Doctor and Sasha turned to face the door, dropping whatever they were holding. They looked up, blushing with trembling lips, to the woman at the door. Miss Rubens had arrived!

* * *

_**Oooooh! I hopey ou're liking the story. Please review/favourite/follow/just keep reading :)**_


	5. Part 5

_**Sorry I haven't updated in ages, but I'm on half term so I thought now would be a good time to get back in to this. Enjoy! :D**_

* * *

Police Constable Jameson gave his final nod to the camera, lowered his hat and left the interview, walking back with his head held high to the scene of the Whiteleys shooting. The entire corridor was sectioned off to the public, with the exception of a nosey reporters trying to sneak a photograph of the shattered glass and wreckage of the shopping centre. Men in white forensic clothes were photographing the scene whilst senior officers stood around jotting notes. Constable Jameson was proud. He had a right to be. He'd successfully disarmed a gunman in a public area without a single fatality, a day before Christmas. He would surely get the promotion he deserved.

"Well done, Jameson," Constable Price congratulated him, smiling her usual smile. "We should have more officers like you on the force."

"Oh, you don't have to," Jameson blushed.

"No, I really mean it. You've saved a lot of people for one more Christmas. Here. Have this on me," she smiled, handing Jameson a candy cane. "You deserve an early Christmas present."

Jameson was flattered, and a little awkward. "Thank you."

"I'll see you on Christmas Day then, right?" Price asked, walking away.

"I'm sorry?" Jameson inquired.

Price turned to face Jameson, "Mine. Christmas party. Christmas Day. Any time after EastEnders. Wear something Christmassy – a hat at least."

"Ok," Jameson nodded, "I'll see you there."

Jameson smiled to himself as Price left the crime scene. Just as she left, Jameson turned, facing a large man in a suit. It was Jameson's boss – the notoriously hard-to-get-along-with-or-bear-to-be-around Captain Rippon.

"So, sport. What's gone and happened here then?" Rippon asked, looking at Constable Jameson sternly.

Jameson nearly choked, so nervous around the man. He stood up tall, fixing up his uniform. "A gunman firing shots at the public. The entire shopping centre was evacuated by security. We apprehended the gunman. No civilian fatalities, but the gunman was injured. A bullet shot to the shoulder. The paramedics said it's unlikely he'll die."

"And the press?"

"Well, a gunman opened fire in a shopping centre in the middle of the pre-Christmas shopping rush – the press have had a field day, but we are doing are best to keep them out. All official statements have gone through the Sergeant."

"Yes, I saw you on the news. Well spoken."

"Thank you, Sir."

"And when you and – Constable Spencer, was it? – apprehended the gunman, who exactly formulated the plan?"

"Well, that would be me, Sir. Just a standard plan but it was mainly the heat-of-the-moment."

"No need to beat yourself down, Constable. You did well. Very well considering the circumstances. In fact, so good that I have a proposition for you."

Jameson gleamed – a promotion? "And what would this proposition be, Sir?"

"Well," Rippon began, "I don't usual get involved I cases. I have a sort of pick-and-choose attitude – mysteries, explosions, murders; the sort of stuff that could make a good novel. The thing is, I want you to help me. I've assembled a small group of people from various departments; they continue their jobs as usual but assist me in cases that spark a certain interest. You've caught my attention today. Not just that you apprehended a culprit, but you stayed throughout the night to clean up the mess. And it Christmas Eve! That shows the sort of commitment and attention to detail that I'm after. So what do you say? In or out?"

There was only ever one answer. "I'm in, Sir."

"Good, Constable. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

* * *

"What are you doing in my office?" Miss Rubens inquired, closing the door behind her, trapping the Doctor and Sasha in the room.

"Miss Rubens!" Sasha smiled, stepping towards her to shake her hand. "My colleague and I are so pleased to meet you! We are from Beverly Newman Entrepreneur Awards, and we are delighted to be awarding you with this year's Beverly Newman Outstanding Businesswoman Award. Congratulations!"

"You must be so pleased!" the Doctor added, clapping as he played along with Sasha's cover.

Miss Rubens refused to shake Sasha's hand. "Why are you looking through my items?"

"Because . . . Erm," Sasha stuttered.

"Because we . . . We saw a rat!" the Doctor announced, even surprising Sasha. "We saw a rat and needed to find something to shoo it away with, but had to make sure it wasn't something too valuable."

"He hates rats. Can't bear any rodents," Sasha continued.

The Doctor grumbled.

Miss Rubens raised an eyebrow. "A rat? You seriously expect me to believe that get into my office. Through a locked door. Seventy one floors up. What, did it take the lift?"

Sasha laughed. "Ha! Of course not! It wouldn't be able to even reach the buttons."

"So there wasn't a rat?"

"Well . . . No. Not exactly," Sasha stammered.

"Well done, Sasha. Shining as ever," the Doctor groaned sarcastically.

Miss Rubens stepped towards Sasha, instilling fear straight through her. "Why won't you tell me who you are? One of these 'social-media-is-destroying-humanity' types? We get a lot of them. Journalists maybe?"

"You got us!" the Doctor cried. "Internet theorists. So tell us, what happens to peoples' minds when they are uploaded to CyberSocial?"

"Ah! Common misconception. Their minds are still part of their physical body, but CyberSocial allows us to communicate with parts of the mind like never before. Their minds are still their property and we are not able to interfere with them. Perfectly legal," Miss Rubens clarified.

"But how can you be trusted with such valuable data? You could easily steal information from the mind of anyone. If you got into a politician's head you could cause chaos," the Doctor argued. "Then again there's Farage, you might've done already..."

"But we would never dare of such a thing!" Miss Rubens gasped. "CyberSocial keeps its morals close to heart."

"So there is a possibility. All that stands between such an event is our trust in you," the Doctor frowned. "You would have the whole world in the palm of your hand. You could even control what people do; how they behave."

"Such an event would be unethical."

"Not if the user was tricked into downloading hidden software with the app."

"The app has been scanned and checked by external companies due to the nature of it. You would presume they would've found something."

"Not if it was encrypted. Just like that symbols on the lock for your door."

"It would've been decrypted."

"Not if it was that Cyber subscript. Cyber – I presumed that's what you are. A Cyberwoman. Always wondered whether Cybermen came in just one gender," the Doctor smiled, having rustled Miss Rubens' plans.

"You know the Cybermen?" she asked.

"Search your data banks. I am the Doctor," the Doctor declared.

Suddenly, Miss Rubens stopped. She stopped moving, breathing; just standing frozen as her eyes flashed with an eerie blue light. Then she spoke, her voice now electronic. "Data for 'The Doctor' available on the Cyberiad Databanks. We know who you are. You must be upgraded."

Slowly, Miss Rubens transform. Her entire body changed, splintering into pixel-like shapes, before morphing into the shape of a metal Cyberwoman.

"What is she?" Sasha asked, stepping back.

"A Cyberwoman. Monsters made from metal, desperate to upgrade any living creature to their Cyberiad," the Doctor explained.

"You mean, they turn people into them?" Sasha gasped in disgust.

"Exactly," the Doctor replied.

"But, Doctor, if CyberSocial launches, nearly the whole of the world will be under their control," Sasha realised. "And they launch CyberSocial tomorrow morning. No-one's going to be watching the news, no-one's going to be paying attention to the rest of the world. They'll just mindlessly download it, without a second's thought, and be uploaded. Billions of people will be under control before the EastEnders Christmas Special."

"Exactly. And the world will just fall into their grasp."

"It already has. CyberSocial will launch on Christmas Day. All will be upgraded," the Cyberwoman-Miss Rubens replied.

At that point, a rapping was played across the office door. "Miss Rubens? You called for security but we can't get in. It's your passkey; we don't understand it and you haven't registered a backup."

"When did she call security?" Sasha wondered.

"I am directly linked to the building's computer system," Miss Rubens replied, having turned back into her human, red-haired form. "Come on in! Quickly!" she called, faking fear.

The office door swung open as three large men in black, padded uniforms, carrying guns entered the room, pointing their weapons at the Doctor and Sasha. The Doctor and Sasha jumped back in both surprise and fear as bright lights were aimed at their faces.

"They're intruders," Miss Rubens informed her security. "Social media activists! Take them to the usual drop off."

"Well isn't this fun, Sasha. All a bit secret service USSR," the Doctor grinned.

"Shut up, Doctor," Sasha groaned.

"We have a . . . A place we send the people who make too much noise. And well done, Doctor! You've made the cut. You made the cut years back," Miss Rubens grinned. "Cuff them."

"Woah! Wait!" the Doctor cried, pulling Sasha back as the security guards approached. "You can't just drag us away in handcuffs; it's against our human rights. We'll make noise about this . . ."

Sasha grinned inside herself – the Doctor had noticed the wink she'd given him, and he'd understood the plan. As the Doctor rambled, distracting the guards, Sasha pulled her phone from her pocket, concealing it as she began to text behind her back.

_Emergency! Track my GPS sashaparker123 emily231103._

* * *

"That's weird," Alec said, raising an eyebrow as he pulled the mangled remains of the metal dinosaur from the blender.

"What's weird?" Claire asked, stepping towards him. "I told you to get some breakfast not go poking through the blender. Sasha was gonna make pancakes for us all cos it's Christmas Eve, but she's been gone all night so I guess it's back to toast and jam."

"Look at this," Alec insisted, showing Claire a side of the dinosaur. "Look at the logo."

"Cy – CyberTech," Claire read. "But that's a big company! Why are we being sent killer dinosaurs from the company that's launching CyberSocial?"

"Just the right question."

"Ooh!" Claire cried, jumping as her phone buzzed in her pocket. "I've get a message."

"Hallelujah," Alec joked. "Come on then, what does it say?"

"'Emergency! Track my GPS sashaparker123 emily231103'. What does that mean?" Claire wonder. "Your sister doesn't half send me some rubbish."

"We need to go!" Alec announced, understanding the message.

"Why?" Claire wondered.

"She'll be with the Doctor and they're in danger. Real, proper, life and death danger. We'll take your bike," Alec decided, pulling Claire to the front door of the flat.

"My bike? Where are we even going?" Claire panicked.

"That was Sasha's email and password. I can track her using the GPS on her phone so we can go after her," Alec explained, opening the door and pulling Claire out into the corridor.

"Seriously? We're going on a motorbike chase through London?" Claire gasped. "You can't be serious! You definitely can't be serious!... Oh my days, you really are serious!"

* * *

_**Please review! **_


	6. Part 6

_**I hope you like this story! Please review!**_

* * *

"Where are we going?" Claire asked, strapping her helmet into place and pulling on her leather biker gloves.

"Erm, give me a moment," Alec mumbled, glancing at the screen on Claire's phone as the search for Sasha's phone continued.

Claire stepped towards her motorbike, a large blue, shining beauty. She flicked on the engine, stepping into place, adjusting the mirrors. "Quick as you can."

"Got it!" Alec cried. "The CyberTech Tower."

"Helmet," Claire instructed, handing Alec a helmet as he got himself behind Claire, wrapping his hands around her waist.

"Ready?" Alec asked, bubbling with excitement.

"Yes," Claire replied, a little nervous as she got the motor running.

"Let's go!" Alec cheered as the two of them swerved out of the estate in a flash of blue.

* * *

The blue motorbike swerved through the city, a knife carving through butter. Alec cried and laughed as Claire panicked a little at the front, half-sure whether to implement Alec's calls of 'Keep going!'

"I really don't think we should be going this fast!" Claire called over the revving of the engine.

"We need to help Sasha and the Doctor! Turn left!" Alec replied.

Claire groaned, swerving the motorbike to the left, clipping the pavement.

* * *

"You can't do this to us!" Sasha complained, kicking and yelling as she and the Doctor were dragged out of the CyberTech Tower into a back street, manhandled by the guards.

"Don't waste your energy, Sasha, screaming won't help," the Doctor insisted.

"No way! I won't be dragged off like this!" Sasha cried.

"Take them somewhere unpleasant. Leave them at the side of a road or in a lion's den," Miss Rubens grinned as the Doctor and Sasha were loaded into the back of a van.

"You cow!" Sasha yelled, kicking Miss Rubens in the waist.

Miss Rubens groaned, over-run with anger. "Execute them once you get out the city. They're too much trouble."

"You will fail!" the Doctor warned with a hiss. "We'll stop you. CyberSocial will never launch!"

Miss Rubens just shrugged off the Doctor's warning, almost smiling. "Happy Christmas. Take them away. And cuff them"

The guards slammed the van doors shut, trapping the Doctor and Sasha in darkness, broken partially by thin slits in the metal. A pair of soldiers dragged the Doctor and Sasha opposite each other, bound their hands with handcuffs and locked them against the walls of the van, unable to reach each other. As soon as the guards left, the engine revved and the van began to move.

"Quick!" the Doctor whispered, shuffling towards Sasha, "Take the sonic!"

"Which pocket?" Sasha asked, shuffling as close to the Doctor as she could.

"This one," the Doctor replied, shaking his breast pocket towards Sasha awkwardly.

"I can't pick it out, my hands are caught," Sasha argued.

"Use your teeth," the Doctor insisted.

Sasha raised her eyebrows – lunging for the Doctor's chest with her mouth wide open sounded a little weird?

* * *

"Woah! Wait! They're moving!" Alec called over the wind that whipped past them.

"Where?" Claire shouted back.

"I'm not so sure. They're moving. Turn right!"

Claire sharply jolted the motorbike to the right, bouncing over a kerb with a scream as they skidded onto a small road, passing fancy Italian cafés and warm aired bistros.

"Go left. Not now! The second left!"

"This really isn't helpful!"

"Turn!"

"What?"

"Now!" cried Alec, having to reach over to the handles himself to steer the motorbike, narrowly missing tourists and businessmen as they swerved on a lively alley, full of Christmas markets, fragrant with cinnamon and churros, steaming with soups and the glowing of fairy lights.

* * *

"Got it yet!" the Doctor groaned in pain as he stretched his arms to get closer to Sasha.

"Nearly!" Sasha whined, pulling and heaving to get as close as she could.

Suddenly, the van spun to the left as it turned a corner a little too sharp. The Doctor was flung outwards, across the van as he was stretched out. Sasha, on the other hand was flung against the wall of the van, sliding as she was crunched into a ball. As the screaming subsided, they were then bumped back into their normal positions, bouncing into the air before sharply smacking back into onto the floor.

"Sasha! Get it!" the Doctor called.

"What?" Sasha cried, looking about frantically, then eventually, watching as the sonic scattered out of the Doctor's pocket and rolled across the floor to the other end of the van.

* * *

"Second exit!" Alec announced.

"On what?" Claire asked.

"This!" Alec cried.

Then Claire screamed. The motorbike bounced into the midst of a roundabout, greeted by the beeping horns of cars and flaring of yellow headlights. Instinctively, Sasha pulled the bike to the right, steering clockwise around it as she and Alec were flung to a side. At the second exit, she straightened up the bike and headed back down a normal path, motorists still jeering and swearing behind her.

"Woah!" Sasha gasped.

"That was amazing!" Alec cried.

* * *

The van ground to a halt, stopping at a pair of red lights. Still propelled, the sonic was flung to the other side of the van. The Doctor and Sasha groaned, stretching out their legs to try and catch it, but the sonic bounced over and under them.

"Damn it!" the Doctor cried in frustration.

"Hold on, I might be able to get it from here," Sasha laughed, reaching her feet out.

* * *

Claire slowed down, reaching a set of traffic lights on amber.

"What are you doing?" Alec cried. "Keep going!"

"I'll have enough driving points as it is," Claire was adamant.

"We have to save Sasha and the Doctor," Alec insisted. He watched the red light he'd been chasing on Claire's phone. They were nearly there.

The lights flickered red.

"Go!" Alec cried, reaching over to the handle bars, revving the engines in Claire's protest. The bike slid forwards, cutting through the traffic like a knife. As the passed they lights, the traffic from either side of them surged forwards in a wave. Alec pleaded for the bike to go faster.

A van pulled out. A large black van with a CyberTech logo on the side of it. It would be too late.

Claire swerved the bike to a side as the van sharply turned away. With the van already tilted, Claire's bike collided parallel with it. Claire and Alec leapt from the bike, tumbling across the ground into sharply halting traffic as the bike was slammed into the van, spinning through the air as it toppled over the side, skidding to a sparking stop on the other side after smashing through a café's window.

The van, already tilted and now hit by the bike, toppled over on a side, skidding to a stop in front of oncoming traffic.

* * *

Suddenly, the Doctor and Sasha were flung to a side. The entire van tipped, falling over with Sasha hanging in the air, holding onto her handcuffs, and the Doctor on his back on the floor. Sasha groaned, having to pull herself up, making her arms and abs scream, to avoid her shoulder from being dislocated. The Doctor staggered to his feet, having to lean to a side as his handcuffs restrained him.

"Hurry, Doctor!" Sasha cried.

The Doctor could see the sonic and it wasn't too far. He stepped on it, pulling it closer to him. With his shoe, he pressed the button, and the van doors flipped open, crashing ungracefully into the ground. The Doctor tried to aim the sonic at either his or Sasha's handcuffs, but he just couldn't manoeuvre it that well.

"Hurry!" Sasha pleaded.

It was at that point that Alec staggered into the back of the van, tattered and bruised yet still standing. Immediately, he turned to the Doctor. The Doctor looked back at him. For a long moment, the air lay still and silent, not one sound nor a movement. Then, eventually, Alec nodded.

"Merry Christmas," he said plainly.

The Doctor nodded back. "And to you too."

"You left me at that hospital. You didn't come back," Alec shrugged. "And Shannon left me to. Are you going to leave again?"

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Is now really the best time?"

Then, out-of-the-blue, Alec smiled. He jumped to the Doctor, wrapping his arms around him. "You saved all of our lives that day, and most of all you saved my sister. Thank you, Doctor. Have a brilliant Christmas." Alec pulled away, still grinning as the Doctor held his confused expression.

"Erm, a little help here," Sasha begged.

"Oh, yeah, right," Alec remembered, pulling the sonic off the floor, unlocked Sasha's handcuffs and holding her so she didn't just fall to the floor. "What on Earth are you wearing?" Alec asked, surprised by Sasha's skirt and blouse.

"Long story," Sasha replied, finding her feet.

Claire stumbled into the van. "Oh my God . . . It's you . . . The Doctor."

"Good observation," the Doctor smiled, then immediately dropped back into his frown. "We need to go, right now. I can't be doing with the police."

"Oh, Jesus!" Claire cried. "I am dead when then realise that was my bike."

"Don't worry, I'll sort it all out," the Doctor assured Claire as Alec unlocked him. "We'll have to go on foot."

"Not the best in a skirt," Sasha frowned.

"I'm fine for a bit of a jog," Alec shrugged.

"Ok then, let's go!" the Doctor smiled, taking his companions by the hand and leading them out into the crowded, panicking street, running past cars and watchers. A couple of people tried to stop the Doctor and his companions, asking if they were alright and what the hell was going on, but they were overlooked as they continued on - disappearing into the Christmas lighting and distant carollers.

* * *

_**I hope you liked that! How will they manage to defeat the Cybermen? Keep reading!**_


	7. Part 7

_**Hope you enjoy this! Please review :)**_

* * *

After their legs gave way, their lungs heaved for fresh winter air and their cheeks turned blossomed red, the Doctor, Sasha, Alec and Claire stopped, panting as they rested on a quiet, shop lined street. Trees were billowed, bared and crystallising in the air in the park opposite where they had stopped, the cold splintering into them.

"Oh my God," Claire panted, stepping away from the rest of the group. "So this is what you do? The crazy lot of you! You chase the bad guys – you don't care how dangerous it is you just jump straight in and hope for a half-decent result?"

"Every day of the week," the Alec grinned.

"Well, that's just . . ." Claire cried, trailing of her sentence in pure confusion and uncertainty. "I don't know but you're mad! That's all I know! You should all be carted off to some institute. I nearly died then. We all did! And people saw! The police will've been called and an ambulance and reporters . . . They'll know I was there. I don't want to be involved. I could lose my job."

"Woah! Calm down," Alec insisted.

"For God's sake; you're only fifteen and already you've been in a motorbike chase. What is wrong with you?!" Claire gasped.

"Most things," Alec joked.

"Christ!" Claire heaved. "I need a coffee. I've not even had my breakfast yet."

"Come on," Sasha ushered then, walking along the street, "there's a café just over here. What could be more Christmassy than a full English for lunch?"

The café was a typical, slightly grimy, slightly smelly, plastic tabled little place along the street with neon coloured post-its in the window advertising any friable form of breakfast. The table was a little sticky, but even still the Christmas-Pop music kept the atmosphere light, and even the scent of coffee covered whatever scent it was from the toilet.

"So what's going on? A CyberTech van – what's that about?" Alec asked.

"It's the Cybermen. You haven't met them before but they are bad – up there with the Daleks," the Doctor began.

"Oh, so just a bit of a nuisance then," Alec frowned.

"They've taken over CyberTech, that or made it, which I wouldn't be surprised by. They've got control over CyberSocial, and when it launches they're going to do it to control the minds and souls of anyone and everyone who has an account. They could cause havoc! If they wanted, they would have power to control the world, but it's worse than that."

"How could it be worse than that?" Alec asked.

The Doctor paused a moment. "They'll convert the entire planet into Cybermen. You saw Miss Rubens, Sasha – they'll turn everyone into copies of her. Metal men with no emotions, no hearts, no free thought. Just like humanity any other day but controlled by them."

"Thanks," Claire said, rolling her eyes. "No offence meant, but who exactly are you? You just appearing into the world one day – the same day that my best friend was laid down half-dead in my emergency department. And now you're back, out of the blue, and the world is turning to hell! Is that what you do, Doctor? Do you just drag around trouble like a bad smell? Well, answer me!"

The Doctor just frowned, then turned to Sasha. "I don't like your friend all too much and moreover I don't think I want to. It's all gob with her isn't it. Where did you find her? You should look somewhere else next time for better companions."

"Who are you?" Claire snapped. "Just a grumpy guy with a box that goes on dangerous adventures. And the way you act, with that laser pen sonic thing, I doubt you're even from here. Like you're not even human."

"Exactly. I'm not human. I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey."

"And so? You may as well be Dave from the pet shop."

It was at that moment that the waitress stepped beside their table, a blob of gum wedged between her teeth and a filthy apron. She wore a large red Father Christmas hat, almost ironically with such a dull, non-festive expression. "I've got a full English and a club sandwich. I'll bring the rest soon," she mumbled, handing Sasha and the Doctor their meals respectfully before swaggering off.

Immediately, Claire snatched the Doctor's sandwich from under his eager eyes, pulled it to herself, and chewed it before the Doctor's irritated expression. "So, Time Lord, why should I try you? Why should any of us trust you?"

Even Sasha and Alec were looking up now, no longer transfixed in the argument but now genuinely wondering what the Doctor had to say.

"Because you don't have a choice," the Doctor replied. "Everyone on this planet is in danger, and no-one but me can stop it falling into the hands of the Cybermen. I may disappear and reappear, off on another adventure, but for this Christmas I'm staying – I'm staying to save you. Got that, Claire?"

Claire took another chomp on the sandwich. "Just one last thing – why did you leave? The way I see it, you left your two best friends on their own – one fragile and the other barely alive. What kind of a trustful man does a thing like that?"

"Some salad thing, smoothie and curry," the waitress grunted, reappearing somehow more sarcastic and grumpy than before. "Whose is whose then? I'm not flipping psychic."

Alec took the smoothie and curry from the waitress, leaving the Doctor to take Claire's salad in disappointment.

"Who's paying?" the waitress snapped, handing out a receipt and credit card reader.

"One for the Time Lord, I think," Claire suggested with a grin.

"I don't carry money," the Doctor snapped.

"What a surprise?" Claire groaned, rolling her eyebrows.

"Ergh!" Sasha groaned, rummaging through her pocket. "I guess I'll pay then, if it's stops you two from killing each other," Sasha decided, forcing her money into the waitress' hand. "Keep the change."

"If it suits ya," she shrugged, wandering away to her magazine.

"And for what it's worth," Sasha began, "I can trust the Doctor. We can all trust the Doctor. What right do we have to say when he goes and when he stays? When I'm in danger, I know he'll be there. But now that we're on the subject: why did you leave? Why have you only just come back?"

The Doctor was shocked silent. ". . . Sorry, I'm confused. Did you want me to answer that?"

"Yes. Now. If you don't mind," Sasha grinned, taking a sip of Alec's smoothie.

The Doctor groaned. "I couldn't. I couldn't stay with things the way they were. I guess I was worried about what would happen, so I didn't want to have to stay to see it out. I wanted to come back. Travelling wasn't quite the same without you."

"Nowhere too exciting I hope," Alec joked.

"But I'm back. And I will be leaving again, but this time I'm taking you two with me. The old team back together. First, however, we need to defeat the Cybermen," the Doctor smiled.

"And how are we going to do that?" Sasha asked.

"You're talking about taking down the whole of CyberSocial. That's gonna take some work," Alec frowned.

"Do any of you have an account yet?" the Doctor wondered.

"No," Sasha and Alec replied. "I didn't like the sound of it. I've never really been into social media anyway," Sasha added.

"I have it," Claire answered. "It's here," she said, taking out her phone, unlocking it, then opening out the desktop to reveal a small grey icon with the CyberSocial logo. "When you get an account you get send the app, but you can't do anything with it until the Christmas Day launch."

"Just what I need," the Doctor smiled, taking Claire's phone and inspecting the app. The Doctor removed his sonic screwdriver from his pocket and flourished it over the phone with an alien green light. "Aha!" he cried. "Just as I thought. Cyber scripts hidden under your everyday computer scripts – indecipherable files and computer programs ready to be activated."

"But you can decipher them, right? Like you did with Miss Rubens' door," Sasha recalled.

"Exactly. But I'll have to be careful. Trigger the app early and it might set them all off, let Miss Rubens find our location, I don't know. I'll give it a try," the Doctor said.

"Just be careful alright," Claire pleaded, distrusting the Doctor's mad-scientist glare on the phone.

"No promises," the Doctor mumbled, too occupied. "Aha! Got you now," he suddenly announced, grinning as he pulled the sonic away from the phone, watching alien symbols appear across the screen. "Just as I thought. As soon as the app is activated, the mind is effectively controlled by CyberTech."

* * *

"Where are they?" Miss Rubens snapped, snarling at one of her trembling guards in her office. She was scary enough on an ordinary day.

"There was a crash with a motorbike. They've escaped," the guard replied.

"Escaped to where?"

"We don't no. We've tried the CCTV but we've lost them."

"Well done! Never leave to man to do anything involving brain work I say," she snapped.

Then the beeping started – a repetitive hum. Miss Rubens' eyes sparked. "One moment," she insisted, rushing to her computer. A message flashed on her screen:

_Unlicensed CyberSocial connection established._

"Is there a problem, Miss Rubens?" the guard inquired.

"Yes," Miss Rubens snapped, "but not for you. I can deal with this myself."

* * *

"So how do we stop that happening?" Sasha asked.

"We can use the programming against them. We know their language so we can use it against them. We need to make a virus"

"Yes, but how? Whenever you're going to do, you need to get it onto every phone with CyberTech downloaded."

"Ok, well in that case we'll have to change the programming of CyberSocial itself. Get the virus throughout the system."

"But how do you do that?" Alec inquired.

"Well, there seems to be only one option. We need to send the virus via the Cyberwoman. We need to get to Miss Rubens and get her to send it out."

"But she's not just gonna let you do that!" Sasha protested.

"Exactly. We're going to have to _deactivate _Miss Rubens," the Doctor frowned.

"I love a good Christmas murder," Claire grumbled.

"In that case, we need to get to the BT Tower. They'll be launching CyberSocial in the morning at the top floor," Sasha reminded the Doctor, scooping up a fork-full of beans and hash brown.

"Good. That'll give me a whole night to work on the virus," the Doctor considered.

"To the TARDIS?" Alec grinned.

"Good plan," Sasha agreed, scooping the remnants of her meal into her mouth and jumping out of her seat, pulling Alec with her. "Come on."

"But I've not finished my BLT," the Doctor grumbled, swiftly pulling his meal from under Claire's nose, swapping it with her salad. "Out paced by a thousand year old – do keep up."

"Well I've got a key."

"You don't know where I parked."

"It's parked on the road by the estate. I could see it from my window," Alec replied.

"Cool. We'll be on our way then," Sasha grinned, stepping to the door. "Come on, Claire!"

Claire didn't move. Sasha stopped before the door, then turned to her best friend. "No. No, I don't think I will," Claire frowned. "I'm sorry, Sasha, but I can't get involved any more. For God's sake, I just publicly smashing up my bike after crashing into a van, I'm not gonna break into the BT Tower at the biggest launch event in my lifetime!"

Sasha hesitated a moment, then pulled up a chair beside Claire. "This is what we do all day, everyday. I trust the Doctor, and you should, because we will have saved the world. Forget your job and the bike – this is a chance no-one else will ever get."

Claire raised her eyebrows and stiffened her lip. "I love my job, Sasha, so don't presume I'll give it up just because of your failed police career. And I don't think I'll ever trust the Doctor," Claire argued, giving Sasha a last smile before leaving the café.

"Claire!" Alec called, stepped out to stop Claire, but she was already down the street.

"Ergh!" Sasha groaned, collapsing her head against the table in frustration.

"To the TARDIS?" the Doctor suggested, chewing his BLT.

"Definitely," Sasha sighed. "Merry Christmas."

* * *

The waitress raised her head, dropped her magazine mindlessly to the floor. Her eyes flashed an eerie blue. Mechanically, she walked, leaving the café and stepping out onto the street. Her eyes followed Claire as she stormed past her. Target acquired.

* * *

_**I hope you liked that! I'll update soon :)**_


	8. Part 8

_**I really hope you like this! Only 2 chapter left (that's the hope) then a possible SERIES 2! Send me messages for hopes of series 2/opinions so far. Please review :)**_

* * *

"I still don't like the round things," Alec joked, stepping into the TARDIS, followed by the Doctor and his sister. "You don't like change much, do you."

"How long will it take to make this virus?" Sasha asked, closing the doors as the Doctor wondered down to the bottom level of the console room.

"It'll be done by the morning," the Doctor replied, rummaging about beneath Sasha's feet.

"But there's no concept of night and day in here."

"Then take a guess," the Doctor answered, reappearing with a box full of objects – wires and clamps and toggles and … an apple, which was quickly discarded, narrowly missing Alec's head. "These should suffice." Immediately, the Doctor took the box to the upper floor of the console room, sat at a desk, and began hammering together odds-and-ends.

"Does this mean we get our rooms back then?" Sasha asked.

The room feel silent, the air as thick as tar.

"Well, that is if we're going back to how things were. That is what's happening right? Yeah, of course it is!" Sasha rambled, unsure of where to go. "Sorry, it's just that I really need to sleep."

The Doctor watched Sasha for a moment, noticing how she was obviously unsure about the situation and where and if she would cross a line. "Yeah. Same room. It may not necessarily in the same place but have a look about."

"Ok...Great," Sasha smiled awkwardly, before leaving to room and down the corridor.

Once again, the room fell silent – the occasional click of metal as the Doctor worked on his device, leaving Alec alone around the console.

"I got you a present, you know," Alec stuttered from the bottom of the stairs.

Metal clanged as the Doctor placed down his equipment, his back still to Alec. "I don't got for presents."

"Fine, well I could just bin it if it doesn't mean that much," Alec suggested.

"Well, I suppose if you've gone to all the trouble … I suppose you could give it to someone else instead."

"Fine, I'll just keep it then."

"Good. You do that."

"I will."

"Is this how the conversation's going to go now – just in circles?"

"No. I'm gonna let you get on with your software and programming, Time Geek, and I'm gonna go and Christmas."

"And Christmas?"

"Yeah, it's what people do at Christmas. Mince pies, Band Aid, tinsel, general jolliness, that sort of thing. Why even are you hammering all those things together?"

"I need to make a virus."

"I'm from two thousand and four but even I know that that's a software thing."

"But I need the hardware too. Imagine you have all the skills to make porridge, but then you don't have a spoon to eat it."

"Who eats porridge?"

"Alec, are you going to question me all night, or are you going to do something?"

"Questioning you is something, but fine," Alec sat back in a seat, "you know that the police won't dare come after us after the crash. You don't need to waste any more time questioning how to get us out of more trouble."

"Who says I wasn't."

"Don't lie to me, your eyebrows give it all away."

"Go on then. How come we're safe all of a sudden?"

"I was an agent, remember. Secret services don't make a fuss because they don't want to be caught out. They can't risk threatening my identity, so they'll sweep the crash under the carpet and lie through their teeth. They can't do it all the time though. If I threaten them, or I dunno – kill someone – then there's nothing they can do. If it's high profile, it's my problem."

"Makes sense. Humans. Always finding the easy option out."

"Well, we weren't going to pick the harder option were we." Alec sighed with a smile.

"So tell me," the Doctor began, taking a screwdriver to a set of bolts and wire, "why didn't you tell Claire or Sasha about this get-out-of-jail-free card?"

Alec sighed. "Because they need to realise that this – travelling in the TARDIS – has consequences. Claire definitely does now that she thinks her job's at risk, but I'm not convinced about Sasha. She was hospitalised for months, then jumps back in here like nothing's happened."

"And you think it's up to you to set everyone right?"

"I dunno . . . Yeah, I guess. If no-one else will."

"And I thought your sister was the control freak."

"I'll leave it to you," Alec smiled, leaving the console room.

"I want a car. Now!" Miss Rubens snarled.

"There'll be one within five minutes," Matt Jacobs, the Dorito scented receptionist, replied, following Miss Rubens down the central stairs of the CyberTech Tower.

"Forget five minutes, I want it now. CyberSocial launches in the morning and I want the entire top floor converted so that nothing gets in the way," Miss Rubens insisted.

"Yes, of course," Matt stuttered, "we'll get someone to hurry the cars along and . . . Sorry, but did you say _converted_?"

"Yes. I think I must," Miss Rubens smiled turning to Matt, whose face was frozen in a distorted expression of confusion. "And I think I'll start with you."

… A piercing wail echoed down the stairs.

"It is done!" the Doctor cried.

"What?" Sasha groaned, stumbling down to the console.

"The virus is complete," the Doctor explained, flinging switches with a quick flick of his wrist – above them dials turned, setting the TARDIS into motion.

"To the morning then," Sasha smiled.

"Arm yourselves."

"What?" Sasha gasped in confusion.

"These are Cybermen we're dealing with. You should expect a fight to be had," the Doctor answered, continuing to press switches, his expression gradually descending into worry.

"This sounds more like my kind of thing," Alec beamed. "I'll get us some stuff," he cried, running off into the TARDIS.

"Urgh!" the Doctor suddenly cried, smacking the console with the palm of his hand. Alec stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong, Doctor?" Alec wondered.

"We can't land!" the Doctor cried in frustration, the veins in his head growing increasingly prominent.

"Why can't we land?" Sasha inquired.

"The top floor isn't letting us in!"

"How can a whole floor be TARDIS-proof?"

"Well, I suppose the Cybermen must've worked out some things out after years of combat against each other."

"Then land a floor below. We can fight our way up," Alec suggested.

"Fight our way against the Cybermen? An old woman, a kid and a dashing young man?" the Doctor frowned.

"Well, remember that this dashing man knows a thing or two about combat," Alec grinned.

"And this kid was a serving police officer," Sasha added.

"I'm noticing a lot of past tense verbs here . . . Hold on. Who are you calling an old woman?!" the Doctor bickered.

"Land, Doctor," Sasha ordered. "Time to show you what companions are made of."

With a valiant groan, the TARDIS materialised into existence - it's bright white lights fading. The thirty sixth floor of the building opened out into a large room. Carpet floors, ovular chairs, cold coffee mugs, large glass windows overlooking the city far out into the distance. Tinsel lined the rooms and cinnamon candles burned out into black soot – an office ghost Christmas.

"Well . . . Isn't this a great way to spend Christmas morning," Alec joked, grimacing slightly at the chilling sight. With him, he brought a sword in his hands, passing a metal pole to Sasha as she too left the TARDIS.

Sasha observed the room – it was cold and grey. Out in the distance, Christmas lights were strung in the frost, yet not a single glimmer of cheer in the building. It was as if the room had been in full life, yet every sense of life had disappeared. Chairs out of alignment with tables, coffee cups cold and half-full, blazers strewn over furniture . . . And a pale flesh figure . . .

"Is that . . ." Sasha stuttered. "Is that a hand?"

The Doctor and Alec focused their vision where Sasha gestured. She was right – a ghostly pale hand was slumped over the back of a chair, a pair of high-heeled legs sliding out from beneath the unvisible body.

"Hello? . . . Are you alright?" Sasha asked, stepping towards the woman in the chair.

"Careful, Sasha," the Doctor warned.

Alec raised the sword towards the chair.

"Careful, Alec. That sword belongs to an old reptilian friend of mine."

"Are you ok? Speak to me," Sasha stuttered, tapping the woman's hand – cold.

With easy, the woman slumped back out of the chair, slopping onto her knees, yet keeping her torso upright and her head to her chest. So a moment the room stood silent, watching the woman as she gently rocked like a rag doll. Then – almost robotically – she rose to her feet, her head and arms still loosely waving to the floor. And then her head snapped up.

A blue light shone from her eyes. Half her face was fused to wire and metal in an intricate circuitboard design.

With a fierce jolt, she slumped forwards, taking her first steps, eyes piercingly fixed on the Doctor and his companions.

"Everybody back! Back!" the Doctor cried, pulling Sasha behind him as Alec stepping forwards, wielding his sword towards the woman. "No, Alec, don't – she could still be saved. Don't hurt her!"

"What if she hurts us?" Alec protested.

"Look at her! She can barely keep her head up."

"Fair point."

"Doctor," Sasha interrupted, yanking at the Doctor's arm, "look."

Behind the slumped woman, men and woman in business atire began to crawl from off of the floor and behind chairs, stumbling onto their feet. Their hands remained slumped, but nevertheless the room was still glowing with an eerie blue light.

"Are these the Cybermen?" Alec wondered, his eyes flitting from person to person.

"No. They're these metal people. These people . . . I don't know . . . What would you say Doctor?" Sasha explained.

"Part converted," the Doctor suggested. "Still dangerous so be careful."

Suddenly, every head turned to face the three of them.

"Ok. That doesn't seem like a good sign," Sasha worried.

"Top floor. Ignore them. Come on," the Doctor instructed, turning around as he ushered Sasha and Alec out the room.

He stopped . . . Sasha and Alec haulted too.

In front of them, a grey, life-drained man stood – Mr Blakemore. Half his face was wire and metal, flahing an eerie blue light. And at his side – Claire.

Her face was half metal.

"I don't think you're going anywhere," Mr Blakemore gleamed.

* * *

_**2 chapters left and lots more drama to come! Please review :)**_


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